Thursday, June 30, 2005

I was feeling very discouraged this morning....several reasons, not one in particular. Have you ever felt like everything is hitting you all at once? Suddenly blind-sided by pain, which leaves you feeling overwhelmingly weak? This is exactly how I felt today...and then I heard this song on my way to work. It's called "Held" by Natalie Grant. Below are the lyrics:

Two months is, too little.They let him go.They had no sudden healing.To think that providence would take a child from his mother while she prays, Is appalling.

Who told us we'd be rescued?What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?We're asking why this happensto us who have died to live,it's unfair.

Chorus:This is what it means to be held.How it feels when the sacred is torn from your lifeand you survive.This is what it is to be loved,and to know that the promise waswhen everything fell we'd be held.

This hand is bitterness.We want to taste it, let the hatred know our sorrows.The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

(Chorus)This is what it means to be held.How it feels when the sacred is torn from your lifeand you survive.This is what it is to be loved,and to know that the promise waswhen everything fell we'd be held.

Bridge:If hope is born of suffering,If this is only the beginning.Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

(Chorus)This is what it means to be held.How it feels when the sacred is torn from your lifeand you survive.This is what it is to be loved,and to know that the promise waswhen everything fell we'd be held.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

I'm heading to Houston in just a day, and I will be bonding with my 17 year old cousin there. Love her as I might...she speaks another language, which I'm not quite familiar with. It is called "ebonics." To prep myself for her, I decided I better become fluent in some of the more key ebonic words. I thought those of you who are not fluent in this language might like to learn with me...so here it goes.

G's- WIT (what I thought)- the letter in the alphabet before H or perhaps thousand dollar billsWII (what it is)-dis be short fo gangstas!

Oh snap!WIT- something you do to a snazzy songWII-dis what you say when you see somethin schmoove.

schmooveWIT-what you do when someone is sitting next to you on a crowded couch. you schmoove overWII-dis be somethin das juss bad ass!

CristalWIT- my galpal in Missouri or something my beads are made ofWII-dis what dey drink on MTV cribs!

axeWIT-the instrument that Paul Bunyon cut trees down withWII-dis be da word you use when yo inquirin'

capWIT-a hat to cover your head on sunny daysWII-what will bust in yo ass if you step off

For months I have felt comfort in my misery knowing that my friend Billz was miserable in his own little space behind a computer. But now, he's leaving me. Friday is his last day at work, and come Tuesday he will embark on a new career to achieve bigger and better things. I'm not quite sure what I'll do with out my daily dosage of Billy nonsense. It has seen me through some dark, mind numbing days at work. Soon he will have no time for meaningless banter with me.

This means I'll have no more emails likes this one:Ummmmm Sue, i'd like to tell you that the apple ipod shuffle was a badinvestment, that the hours i poured over it , getting the songs in theright order was all just a worthless endeavor....I'd like to tell you thatthe sound quality suckd, and even at maximum volume you could barely hearanything..... that the music comes through grainy and skips alot .......i'dlike to tell you that the size of the ipod is so impractical that i mightas well shove a boombox in my pocket......i'd like to tell you all of thesethings....but .....I CANT B/C I LOVE IT AND I HAVE IT IN MY POCKET RIGHTNOW JAMMING OUT TO LUDACRIS....OH YEAH MAN, I'M COMING FOR THAT NUMBER ONESPOT, SCHEME, SCHEME, PLOT , PLOT, I'M COMING FOR THAT NO. 1SPOT.....YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

I’m not bored. I have plenty of things to do. The question is, do I really want to do it? The answer is, no. All I really want to do is wish away the next few days because I am off on Friday. Two words…yee haw. I guess that’s technically one word. Anyway…This weekend I’m off to Houston. It beats staying home in OKC for the long weekend. Now typically my visits to Houston are consumed with my cousins, Mikey and Susan. But, they’re no longer there anymore, which means that I will be visiting my mother’s side of the family.

When my father died, one of my concerns was that his side of the family’d never remember us. This really worried me, considering my cousins and I were inseparable in those days. However, much to my dismay, I’m still closer to my father’s side of the family than my mother’s side. So, going to Houston and hanging out with them will be quite a change for me.

Regardless, I’m very anxious to get on the road. And the afternoons just seem to be long and painfully drawn out these days. Today, I spent much of the afternoon counting steps. From my office to the office across the hall it’s 20 steps. From the door to my desk is also 20 steps. From my desk to my friend’s desk is once again 20 steps. Coincidence? Perhaps. Now I’m going to walk from my desk to the boardroom and if that’s 20 steps, I’ll just FREAK. Be right back. Okay, it was only 13. The 20 step curse has been broken. I know what you’re thinking,…”she must be bored.” And indeed, I am. Is it Thursday yet??

Friday, June 24, 2005

I don't know what it is about me...I must look motherly. I know I dress motherly. Maybe it is both of the reasons combined that makes random strangers think that I have children. Now, it's totally understandable if I was with my niece or nephew and someone assumed they were mine. They could be mine. But, the oldest person that was assumed to be my child was in her fifties.

It all started at a pente conference several years ago. I was wearing a skirt, shirt, make-up, and sunglasses over my head...not something you'd see an "aunty" wearing. Anyway, I was trying to get registered with a couple of my guy pals and the stupid malayalee uncle at registration was giving me the runaround because at first he thought i was a "non-pente" trying to sneak in without paying registration, which I had already pre-paid. This was due to the bracelets I was wearing. (rolling eyes) Anyway, I assured him that I was indeed a pre-paid pente and the guys with me went to my church. Automatically he asks, "They are your sons?" I was traumatized. I was 24 at the time, and the guys were 20. Did I look that old?!?

Sheryl is another story. She's six years younger than me and people always assumed I was her mother. At least that made sense in my mind...she's at least a lot younger than me. But, I was a little upset when someone thought Sunu A, who is a year OLDER than me was my daughter. We went to the mall one day, and the clerk said, "Thank you Mrs. Varghese. You and your daughter have a lovely day." My daughter?? I was irate, but she loved it.

One time someone asked me Sunu's mom was my daughter...now that's just nuts. Aunty, Sonia, and another friend were going to the bathroom at some gas station on a drive back from Houston. This random guy thought the three of them were hot stuff, so when I went to join them in the bathroom a bit later, he stopped me.

Guy: Are those your daughters?Me: Uhhhhhhh, NO!Guy: Are they your nieces?Me: Uh, NOOOOOOOOO!Guy: Then who are they? Do you know them?Me: They're my friends!Guy: What?!?!? (with astonished face)

Seriously, do I look THAT old?!

Today was the most bizarre case. I was helping Damon (a guy who works for BC) were backing my car up to the docs of our building to mail off to BC. The security guard said Damon would need to go get checked in. I told him I was an employee and I'd be the one going into the building. He said, "Oh okay. You're the employee? So is that your son?" My son?!?!?! The guy is 6'0 (I'm 5'2), thin as a rail (i'm wide as texas), WHITE (and well, i'm clearly not white) I was apalled. Why not guess that he's my husband? Why my son?

I'm apalled. And, I think I need a makeover....cuz I ain't no one's mama.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

1. Does all bottled water taste the same to you?Yes, exactly the same. The only thing bottle water tastes different than is tap water. But, I see no difference in brands

2. Do you wear shoes when you hang around the house or do you barefoot it?I used to wear shoes in the house because I was too lazy to take them off. But now, I feel like I'm not truly home unless my shoes are off.

3. If money was no object, where would you go out to eat tonight?Hmm...that's a great question, but there are not very many high class restaraunts here in OKC, so I'd say...I'd use the money for the meal and go shopping. That's less fattening!

5. Turn around and look behind you, what do you see?a blank wall (exciting!)

6. What's worse, a booger hanging out of your nose or a piece of spinach in your teeth?a boogar. i don't know why boogars are so embarrassing. I mean, everyone has them...but i'd die of embarrassment if I knew one was hanging out and I was carrying on a conversation. although I've carried on conversations with people with boogars hanging out, and I just didn't have the heart to tell them.

7. If you could invent a new flavor of soda what would it be?Mango Zest

8. What's the first section you usually go to when you go to Wal-Mart?Fruit

9. When is the last time you had a haircut?over a year ago when that dark warrior, sheryl "trimmed" my hair to my ears...and crooked to boot!

10. What kind of shampoo is in your shower right now?vive, but i hate it. it's drying my hair. any suggestions?

11. How fast can you type on the keyboard?very very very fast

12. What time is it?8:27am

13. What time do you wish it was?4:45 pm (when I leave work)

14. Did you get enough sleep last night?I slept okay, but I'm a tosser and a turner. that's for sure!

15. What's the worst fashion trend going on right now in your opinion?those massive purses with huge sequence all over it. horrid.

16. Who is your favorite family member?my uncle reji in india, he's the coolest guy in kerala

17. If there were no exotic species laws, what kind of pet would you get?i'm scared of exotic species...

18. If applicable, what video games do you play?i suck at video games

19. What's your favorite color? pink

20. What's your GPA?4.0....ahahah

21. What do you wish it was?no need to wish

22. If you could do anything you wanted to today what would it be? GET MARRIED!

23. Can you lick your elbow?no, but someone should...they're dry.

24. Can you put your leg behind your head?i can barely bend down to pick something up...much less this!

My mom told me about a good way to pray. She learned it from some TV show. I thought it was interesting, so I wanted to share it. When you pray, start with your thumb. The thumb is closest to you and represents those that are close to you...your family, friends, etc. The thumb reminds you to pray for their needs and blessings. The pointer finger is usually used while in instructing. So this reminds us to pray for our teachers, pastors, missionaries etc. The middle finger stands taller than all of the rest of the fingers. This reminds us to pray for our politicians and leaders. The ring finger is the weakest finger, which represents the sick, the poor, the lost. The pinky is last but not least. This represents us, so we are to remember our own needs, pray for own blessings, etc.

I thought this was a fabulous way to pray. And it helps you remember more people in your prayers. I used this method this morning, and it totally worked. Try it out sometime.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

I don't have a big ahead about myself regarding the more obvious things people have big heads about. For instance, I don't think I'm a diva, hottie, babe, etc, etc. In fact, I hate the fact that I have curly hair, my upper lip is too thin, I have sweaty hands..okok, and feet too, I have non-functioning beauty marks on my face, I'm a dwarf, and above all, I'm fluffy. The only physical attribute that I appreciate is the third from the last eyelash of my left eye. It curls rather nicely. I also don't have a big head about my smarts. I'm mathematically retarded, geographically challenged, and scientifically stupid. The only thing I can do and do well is read, find symbolism, and bs essays. I certainly don't have a big head about my fashion sense either. My clothes are meant for a 3rd grade teacher of a private school, and I have enough sweaters to keep all of Alaska warm. So, as you can see, I have little to have a big head about....except, my cooking. I have a huge head when it comes to cooking...especially my brownies. I'm a diva in the kitchen...a cooking phenom of sorts. My mom rolls her eyes when I go on and on about my skills. I know she does this because she's merely jealous. My cousin Lisa will probably also be sipping on hatorade when she reads this, but she just can't get over the fact that when we were 7, my older cousins judged our fruit salad contest and I won EVERY time. She says that it's cuz they liked me better, which they did, but that has nothing to do with the fact that I had a more creative fruit salad. For her defense, she will bring up the fact that about 10 years ago, I made a pan-fried steak, which caused her to dislocate her jaw when she ate it. This too is false. Lisa is what you call a bit of an exaggerator. The fact of the matter is, my recipes are delightfully delicious...eating my cooking is like a treat for your mouth...and I make the best dern brownies on this side of the Mississippi. A girl's gotta have a big head about something...might as well be this!

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

To answer Alex's question regarding sensitive men....I'm sure I don't speak for all women, but probably the vast majority. There are different levels of sensitivity. There's nothing wrong with a man who cries when someone dies, or when he sees his bride walk down the isle, or when his child is born, or if you kick him in his nuts. However, I'd probably raise a brow if he cried watching a movie or listening to Journey sing "Faithfully." There's nothing wrong with a guy venting his feelings and frustrations...but when he does it daily, it forces me to ask, "you want some cheese with that whine?"

I think every girl appreciates sensitivity in a man...especially when he's sensitive to her needs. But, a smothering guy is a different story. A smotherer is someone who is TOO sensitive to her needs....It is one who calls 50 times a day for no reason at all, has syrupy sweet nicknames for her, sits next to her at a restaraunt and stares at her as if in a trance. It's those kind of guys that make you think you might be one step away from dating a stalker. I mean everyone likes attention, but no one wants someone to be obsessed over them. A girl needs som breathing room!!

Girls also appreciate a well-dressed man, but personally, I'd like to be prettier than my man. If he's more fashion conscious than me...HOUSTON, we gotta problem. The following conversation would probably scare me.

me: do you like my pink dress?him: it's not pink, it's fuschia.

I should know more about colors, clothes, hair, and accessories than him. Also, if his eyebrows are more shapely than me....that might propose a slight problem with me too. He doesn't have to be a caveman, but moderate grooming is fine....no need for waxed brows, arms, legs, chests, stomachs or backs. Also, it's great to have a guy who is creative and has an eye for home decor, etc. But, if my man requests candles for his birthday..I'd begin to wonder.

Basically, we girls want a man. Someone who's solid...who knows how to fix a flat and pick out a painting for the living room...who doesn't need to be told his tie doesn't match...who'll be your pillar of strength, yet lean on you when he's hurting too. Is that too much to ask for??

Monday, June 20, 2005

I'm not sure if this happens to all single women, or just me. But, it's tres annoying, and I feel the need to vent. I've stated that I have this "no call" policy once someone gets married. This is simply because I am aware of the fact that married couples are too busy to listen to my daily ranting and raving. So, I save a lot of my random rants and raves for my blog. I don't immediately think of the one single person I know in order to bother them with my banter. I completely understand that once in a while, you need to vent...or you need a shoulder to cry on, etc. And, in that case...sure, it's ok to call a friend...whether they be single or marred because that's what friends are for.

However, I seem to ALWAYS find myself in this weird position where I seem to be the "fill in female." Let me explain, I have a tendency to befriend boys easily. Obviously nothing more than "befriend" thus my single status for the 30th year in a row!! Anyway, I guess males (and correct me if I'm wrong, guys) have a tendency to want to hear the comforting voice of their gal pal or female relatives instead of their "boys" when it comes to matters of the heart. I can't tell you how many countless times I've gotten calls at all hours of the night about a sordid break up, unspoken love, unrequited love, no love, and the list continues.

Now, I don't mind being a listener or an encourager. But, I do mind being the fill in female. You go from friend to fill in when you're boy buddy suddenly stops calling you once they have a new lady love in their lives...and then calls you again ritually when there's trouble in paradise. I find this to be the single most annoying thing. Sometimes I think to myself...If I had a man, there is no way this guy would be calling me at this time of night. This call is taking place solely because I'm single and therefore "seemingly" available for wounded hearts to vent to. Afterall, I should be able to relate right?? WRONG. I can't relate. In fact, it boggles my mind how men dawg women for being whiney, but seriously...they're worse! Here's what is equally annoying....listening to a guy whine every day for the minimum of 2 hours, and then to not have the same courteousness reciprocated when you feel a little wounded. When you're the whiner, they have this "Buck up and deal with it" ...be a man...grow some balls...geez women are too sensitive mentality. Nothing drives me more insane. When they're hurting, you're to dish out compassion but when you're hurting the only part of compassion you're gonna get is "ass."

Friday, June 17, 2005

Sunu K (the newest blogger in the hizhouse) and I were discussing my blogs of late. She said it's unlike me to be serious for several days in a row. She's right. But, I suppose the problems of the world have weighed heavily on my mind as of late. However, today is Friday. And it's totally against my beliefs to be serious on Friday. Especially since this Friday...unlike any Friday for the past 2 months...I have plans with a friend! Yes, Sunu A is back on American soil and she is FINALLY over her India illness that plagues 90% of all travelers who return from India.

Anyway, in honor of Friday and all the fun things it entails...I decided to write a not-so-serious blog. Today, I'd like to discuss names. A name is so important...it's one of the few things that you actually live with for your entire life. Parents should DEFINITELY keep this in consideration when naming their children. Today, I was writing a out a phone message for someone, and I couldn't quite understand the caller's name. So, she spelled it for me. S-A-N-T-A. Santa?! I tried my level best not to laugh by thinking of dead kittens. However, the sadness of dead kittens was outweighed by the hilarity of someone named Santa. However, her name was actually pronounced Sunta. Does it matter? I'm quite sure all throughout her life she must have hated the first day of school. Can you imagine the teacher? "uhh...(hesitating)...Santa???" Thank God her last name wasn't Claus.

Indian names are often the funniest. I remember this little kid who came to my church some years ago. Poor little guy...he just came from India...was finding it hard to settle in here...and as if that wasn't enough, his name was Titty. Yep, you read me right. And the pronunciation was no different than the spelling...TIT-E. Then there's the siblings with the rhyming names Soby, Toby, and Joby or Viby and Giby (sorry, guys)...these two even rhyme with their parents, Baby and Ruby. But rhyming names are bearable...well, correction...more bearable than a few Biblical names...like Dorkus. I kid you not. Imagine the emotional problems that will follow this child throughout life?

But, Indians aren't the only people with funky names. Afterall, Santa isn't an Indian. Either was Inita...pronounced "Eye-Need-uh"...Inita was a customer at the drug store I worked at when I was a kid. I'll never forget her...she was robust and MEAN. She marched up to the counter one day, and said Inita Ham. Ham was her last name. This was all the woman said. She never bothered to say, "I need to pick up my prescription. My name is Inita Ham." Of course not, that took too much courtesy. So my friend who worked the counter that day said, "mam, we don't sell hams." I almost toppled over laughing. The lady was outraged! "NOOOOO," she screamed, breaking the sound barrier. "MY NAME IS INITA. HAM." I guess the fact that we laughed louder didn't make her any happier.

Anyway, now do you see the importance of having a solid name? Last names you can't help...This is why I can live with the fact that although my last name is Varghese...I've been called "Var-cheese" "Bar-grease" "Var-goose" "Var-cheesy"...and many, many more. But, first name horror stories can be prevented. If you're last name is White...don't name your daughter Snow (also, a real person)...and if you have a son named Zach...his brother doesn't need to be named Jack...and if u're name is Inita Ham...tell the clerk you need a prescription...cuz you might get a ham instead.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

I was feeling a bit ill y'day, so I went home right after lunch. After snoozing for much of the afternoon, I woke up just in time to watch some of my old, favorite soaps. While watching them, I wondered how I ever got caught up in soaps. I can finally see them for what they truly are...the finest example of nonsense on day time television. Never have I seen so much cheeze in the span of an hour! I welcomed the 3 o'clock hour because the rest of the afternoon programming would be talkshows. At least these were educational. First, Dr. Phil's show was about girls with eating disorders who use drugs in order to burn more calories. It was interesting to see 100 pound girls declare how disgusted they were with their fat. Fat? They don't know what fat truly is!! But, it's obvious that their problems are about way more than fat. I found Oprah to be equally perplexing. Her show was talking child crimes all over the world. Such as baby rapes in Africa (thought to cure the Aids epidemic), kidnapping of children by African rebels, who create child armies that train children to kill and torture other children, and the male, teenage prostitution problem in the Ukraine. It was horrid, and I was sickened. But, this is the reality of the world we live in. This might not be things we know or see, but it exists. I was reminded of how cruel the world really is. I admire people like Oprah....who give us a glimpse of the world...who remind us that what we see day in and day out is just one very small piece of reality.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Well, I guess I can't avoid the topic of the past two days. So, I'll address it...get it over with...and move on. Michael Jackson. I see the video clips of the little, super-talented boy, and I wonder...WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO HIM?!? Is this really the price of fame? Why can some people adjust to being in the spotlight...while others can't? It's perplexing.

Do I think he did it? I'm not a judge. The truth is, we'll never know. If he did, I feel sorry for the boy, who has obviously gone through so much in his life....first, cancer, then having a weird mother, and finally to be molested at the hands of the king of pop. If he didn't do it, I feel sorry for him. He's already misunderstood and has issues...and this will only push him further into that weird chasm where he dwells. Do I put it past him? No. He does weird, unacceptable things. So it definitely wouldn't surprise me.

I think Michael is screaming for help. And I seriously wish, he would get it...for the sake of his children. His money ensures that those kids will never be taken from him...and God knows, if he wants more he can have some made. But, what will be their future? Who will teach them what "normal" is?

All I can say is, I hope Michael finds peace and love some day...because it's so obvious that he is a man that struggles to find that in all the wrong places

Monday, June 13, 2005

I read an article today in the Wall Street Journal that has me all twisted. It was about the marriage practices in this really small country (I can't remember the name of it). The girls there get married between the ages of 11 and 18. They often have babies way before their bodies are fully capable of handling actually giving birth in a natural way. But, very few of the hospitals are equipped to perform Caesareans. So the majority of girls suffer from a disorder that occurs when girls are in labor too long, which causes the wearing away of the bladder. The bladder forms a hole which leaks urine and the girls are incontinent. They are all kept in one wing of the hospitals with nets around them to prevent flies from getting to them. Their families often don't want anything to do with them because of their odor.

Once again, I was reminded of all the atrocities that people suffer all around the world. And here, I get caught up in my own superficial needs. Often times we hear about things like this...and think "well what can we do?" I know I can't save the world, but I can pray for it. Sometimes we don't realize the power in prayer. A lot of times, people who have a heart to serve the Lord are looking for a way to get out there and do His work...But praying for others is the best way to serve Him and help others... Prayer is the only weapon worth having when fighting the injustices of the world. It's the only weapon Christ had...moments before His arrest he fell down on his face and cried out to His father.

Stories like this put things in perspective...I've been blessed immensely

Friday, June 10, 2005

Oh my gosh...I simply can't take one more second of this woman's annoying laugh. It's amazing how laughs can be so annoying. I know that my laugh isn't exactly the most normal laugh on the planet. I tend to laugh...and then if something really funny...the laugh is followed by a snort. I consciously try to avoid the snort many times, but sometimes it just leaks out. I've snorted in completely inopportune moments and have drawn much unwanted attention to my little problem. BUT...my laugh..minus the snort is totally normal. And the snort is quick and painless...it doesn't last several seconds or minutes. It's like you hear the weird thing and then you don't. But weird laughs seem to last forever.

For instance, there's a difference between a chuckle and cracking up. I know a lady who cracks up at everything and never chuckles. Her chuckle is just a smile...no noise. But when she laughs...she cracks up. I mean...hysterically cracks up. It's the weirdest thing I ever witnessed. Someone will make a moderately funny comment, and she'll just smile. But if someone makes a funny comment that's chuckleworthy, the lady is about to fall out of her chair laughing hysterically. I feel uncomfortable when she laughs. It's definitely not an indoor laugh. It'd be one thing to be outdoors and laugh like this. But indoors...it's just way too loud and weird...and it makes you wonder..."did i miss something?...that wasn't SO hilarious"

Then, there's the long laugher. I've laughed with people before who laugh for such a looooong time. Like I've laughed and returned my face back to serious mode and they're not even half way done laughing. So, then I'm forced to smile a bit longer while they laugh. I certainly can't start laughing again...because by then my mind is already thinking...geez, why is he/she STILL laughing...and there's nothing funny about that thought.

Even worse is the short laugher. Their laugh consists of three sounds...huh-huh-huh. It's the world's shortlest laugh. I guess this would be considered less annoying. Unless you're the person who just made a joke. You're then left wondering...wow was that just a courtesy laugh? But, the fact of the matter is...the laugher thinks you're hysterical, but he/she just can't get more excited than huh-huh-huh.

This particular woman that is currently driving me crazy has this evil, chuckle laugh. She's laughing and no one has a clue why. A part of me doesn't want to know why. Her laugh scares me...makes me want to go to my happy place to get away from her. It'd be different if she did the chuckle and stopped. But, it's a combination of long lasting + the evil chuckle. It sends shivers up my spine. How can any sound be more annoying?

You would think that laughs would be a universally pleasant sound that brings joy to all people. Yah, that's a nice notion...but some laughs are just way too annoying.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Indian parents never cease to boggle my mind. It's like they all work from the same handbook...with your very rare exception. I'd like to get my sweaty palms on this handbook and destroy the master copy, or at minimum, edit them. I'd put in special chapters such as "How to use positive reinforcement" and "Examples of Encouraging words"...and last but not least, "single and thirty is not the end of the world." However, this handbook seems to be guarded like the holy grail...no one knows where it is.

Last night I went over to my aunt's house. She was fretting about my cousin who will be a freshman in college next year. Actually, she wasn't fretting about her, she was fretting about her career choice. My cousin declared Architecture as her major. This put me in a sticky situation because I'm the one who suggested architecture to the kid after seeing this amazing drawing she did of a room.

"I don't think she can do this," My aunt said with a worried look on her face.What happened to the phrase "You can do anything you put your mind to?" Obviously...that's not in the handbook. Her comment was then followed with another equally messed up comment..."So and So has an architecture degree, but he's really smart." My cousin replied with a very vaild question. "Are you saying I'm not smart?"

I had to step in and stop the madness. I did so by suggesting a career test. We immediately got on line and took the test. And guess what the kid's career turned out to be? You guessed it...ARCHITECT. We both looked at my aunt, who looked a bit shocked. I went on to explain to her why my cousin would make a great architect...she's a creative thinker, excels in math, likes to draw, loves to create things, etc. Then my aunt reflects for a moment, and gets a photo album with a picture of my cousin when she was 6. In the picture, she was kneeling next to this pyramid castle she built with blocks. Yep, the kid's had it in her since she was itty bitty...yet they stilllllllll questioned her decision.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

It is officially June and wedding season has begun. As much as I love weddings, I seem to get migraine headaches while attending them. This is odd because I'm not a sufferer of migraine headaches. I do believe, however, that my wedding headaches are stress induced. You'd think that an audience member wouldn't have stress by just sitting at a wedding. "You'd think"

However, today...as is usually the case at Malayalee weddings...I was stressed. I sat in a pew, and literally watched in slow motion as classless man stepped OVER a pew bow to get in his isle, got his foot caught, and knocked the tulle, the flowers, and a candle...shattering the glass. It was horrific! After the idiot did all this, he then used his senseless head and went around to get to his pew...like he should have done in the first place.

I had finally recovered from the first horrific scene when one of the pastors finished reading his scripture, thudded into a candleabra and sent the whole thing sailing to the ground. The audience gasped in sheer horror. Other pastors ran to catch the candleabra before it hit the floor and luckily they succeeded.

Fortunately, I take mental notes at weddings and these disasters are blazed in my memory for life. I will thus remember to try to prevent such occurances from happening when/if I ever have my own wedding.

It just never ceases to boggle my mind how people can be sooooooo classless and just plain stupid sometimes. Thankfully no major disasters occurred...the worst thing that happened was that I got a migraine. =/

Friday, June 03, 2005

Two blogs in a day. I must be A. bored, B. my mind is barraging itself with senseless thoughts, C. I'm trying to make up for my lack of blogging this week, or D. all of the above. =) I was just considering the hyphen...as in the hyphen between last names. Maybe it's just me, but I think that a hyphenated last name sounds so distinguished.

For instance, my cousin's, Susan Thomas-Joseph sounds so much more distinguished to me than just Susan Joseph. As a lawyer, it makes her sound like a hard arss...like one tough cookie. I feel sorry for those who have the same name after they marry like Mrs. Thomas-Thomas. Hyphenating is just pointless in that case. And then there are those who have a common last name when single and inherit a weird last name once they get married like Mrs. Thomas-Chandapillai. Equally sad are those who have a hypenated name that doesn't flow like Mrs. Thomas-George. Drop the hypen, sista...It just sounds silly.

I can't wait to get my hyphen some day. Of course, Varghese doesn't quite mix well with anything. But, Mrs. Susan Varghese-Sabato would look pretty good on a book cover I think. =)

I did something stupid last night....I talked on the phone till 2:30 am. My cousin Kenji Burian (as his friend Jaicy calls him) called me and we hadn't talked in ages. However, I was feeling the pain of that decision at 7:15 when I woke up 30 minutes late and had 15 minutes to get to work. Needless to say, I'm not having a great hair day...or a great day in general because I'm so dern sleepy!

However talking to Kenji is always an interesting experience. He opened my eyes to a great many truths about my own self. He said, "Susan chechi, living in Oklahoma is like living under a rock." At first, I didn't get it. All my cousins hate Oklahoma. I mean let's think about it...It isn't exactly the most happening town in the U.S. But Kenji's comment was more than just Oklahoma hate. He went on to explain that I have no exposure. He said if I was in Chicago, I would be married within a year and I'd have more opportunites for my book.

I thought about his words this morning as I drove to work. I'm not sure about being married within a year...but growing up in Oklahoma has put a damper on my love life...that's for dern sure. And as for my book, yes, it's definitely made it more difficult to seek opportunities. HOWEVER, there are a lot of small town people that have led successful lives. At the moment, I can't think of one...but as soon as I hit post, I'm sure many will flood my mind. And I can't use my location as my stumbling block...I have to use it as a stepping stone.

There's something to be gained from this flat land. I've spent so much time HATING it that I haven't been able to see what exactly it is that I've gained from it. I think the Lord wants me here at this specific time. I think this because try as I might, I can't find my dern way out of here...and I just have to believe that the time isn't right. So, yes...being in Oklahoma IS like being under a rock. But eventually, I'll come out of hiding...and when I do....WATCH OUT WORLD!

Thursday, June 02, 2005

I was walking in the crap infested park in my neighborhood...when a lady came up to me and asked me if I saw a little green bear along the path. When I said no, she seemed really sad. In my mind, I thought...who'd want a little green bear? Sounds ugly to me. But, then I saw the kid in her car...looking all pouty and sad.

I started to think to myself about how kids are weird...until I thought about my little ugly man. I would be DEVASTATED if I lost him. My dad brought the little man back with him from Jerusalem. He's made of sock material, his eyes are yellowed, and he has no arms, but I still adore him. I still remember when my dad handed him over to me...I loved it instantly, but I could never think of a name other than "little ugly man."

Then, I felt sorry for the kid and walked another round just to see if I could find her beloved bear. But, no dice. I came home and saw ugly man sitting on my desk and patted his little ugly head...just to let him know I was glad he was there.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

A brilliant idea came to me yesterday while I was battling to keep my eyes open during the 9 to 5. My mother's 60th birthday is in November, and I thought it'd be great to plan a cruise for her. I quickly emailed my sister, and she agreed that this would be a fantabulous idea. Just this weekend my mom was bragging about her friend's son who bought one ticket for his parents to go on a cruise to Alaska. Then she gave me that "Woe is me" look...that "I'll never get to enjoy like that" look.

My sister and I are looking into the 3 day cruise to the Bahamas on a Disney cruiseliner. I'm not big on "Disney," but that's where we have the hook up...so I'm not going to be choosey. And, although they say "3 day," it's actually only one day in the Bahamas, one day on some Disney-owned island, and one day on the boat. It still sounds rather good to me. Now, I just have to make sure my aunt's on board with the idea...so my sister and I can ditch the old fogies and "partay." Who am I kidding? She and I will probably be more boring than my mom and aunt.

There's only a few things that scare me when considering a cruise. The thought of sinking...I CAN'T SWIM. I took 2 rounds of swimming lessons and STILL can't swim. And this wasn't taken when I was a child...this was like 3 years ago. 5 year olds were diving at the deep end and I was in the shallow end with my friends "the noodles" that I clung to for dear life. I also fear being shipwrecked! The show LOST has me completely freaked out about such things. My worst fear is the buffet. Seriously, I smell relapse. I guess I'll get over the fears in order to provide a memorable experience for the parental unit....mainly to get her to quit whining about not "enjoying life."